


Maybe Mondays Aren't So Bad

by massivenope



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Haiku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/massivenope/pseuds/massivenope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bridget hates Mondays, no question. Until someone sends her a secret letter via the school paper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Mondays Aren't So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> The one where Niall is a romantic, kind of, and has a thing for girls who use pens for crossword puzzles.
> 
> Wrote this in one sitting and only proofed the first bit, sorry. I just wanted to write sOMETHING. i hope you like it.

 

I watch as the numbers light up slowly. 1. 2. I sigh impatiently and I glance at the stairs. There is a battle in my mind: take the stairs and risk passing out on the way up or wait for the elevator and risk falling asleep on my feet. Lazy and Impatient. Wow, Bridget. You deserve an award. You can’t blame me though. It’s 9am on a Monday, I just had my first class. The fact that I’m dressed much less standing on two feet is an achievement in and of itself. I try and fail to suppress a yawn as I turn and walk towards the stairs.

 

I feel bad for the architects of our library. It’s so beautiful and I’m sure they did a good job but the whole thing is lost on students like myself who are half-dead as we walk along its floors. I purposely avoid looking at the vending machine. I am a horrible human being but even I know $1 crisps at 9am is just too much. I should grab some coffee but I honestly just want to get into my booth. Mine. I have claimed it. The only advantage of being in the library at this ungodly hour is that hardly anyone else is in the library at this ungodly hour so I pretty much always get first dibs on it. But today could change that. Someone could already be in it. The thought of missing out on a dim booth I can dump my stuff in and pass out all over it only to end up on a rigid chair in one of the cubicles at the study areas spurs me on as I climb the stairs.

 

I glare at the gigantic, shiny 1 marking the first floor stuck to the doors on either side of the landing as I huff and continue to walk up. I have half a mind to go in and try the elevators again but I’m too sleepy to think straight and too grumpy to care so I keep walking up. I feel like I’m breaking all the rules. Like, I don’t want to be hiking up 3 floors to get to my sanctuary, I don’t want to even be looking at people right now but here I am I am the king of the world.

 

I wish my face reflected my inner monologue. But there you go. No make up. Oversized-hoodie and jeans. Pair of All-Stars. Done. I adjust my bag on my shoulder and I let out a huge breath as I stand in front of the number 4. I walk past it. I almost think it was glowing and that I hear the faint sound of the Hallelujah Chorus.

 

The booth is free, thank goodness. I had to keep myself from kissing the upholstered seats, instead opting to chuck my bag on the opposite seat and begin to spread my notes all over the table. It keeps other hopeful booth-sharers from even thinking about it.

 

When I’m satisfied that my notes look particularly important and should-not-be-moved-at-all-cost I smile to myself and walk towards the magazine rack a few shelves down. I grab a copy of the latest edition of the Uni’s weekly student magazine - Axiom - and head back to my booth. Once I’ve set up my laptop - in all it’s purple-cased glory - I flick through the magazine and then go straight to the crosswords page towards the back. It’s right after Lettuce (Letters to the Editor) and the poetry section - Poetica - where bored third years wax poetic about their futures and their career choices.

 

_It’s the end of days_

_It’s the beginning of life_

_Student loans suck balls_

**\- CrapBaguette**

 

Riveting. I shake my head and start read through the clues before carefully filling in the white boxes of the crossword.

 

-

 

My phone beeps once and vibrates on the table. I jolt awake and I almost spill the cup of coffee sitting by my arm which I’ve been using as a pillow for the past - I check my phone - 45 minutes. I remember doing the crosswords for a bit and maybe I ended up drifting off. Wow. Wait, I didn’t get any coffee. I feel the cup with the back of my hand, still pretty warm. I do a quick mental check of my stuff. MY laptop is still there, my stupid phone woke me up with a text from my friend Gemma reminding me about class, my bag is still there. We’re all good. So… why coffee?

 

I step out of the booth, paper cup in hand, and I look around. The silence makes me want to yell out a question. “Who’s fucking coffee is this?”

 

I look down at it again and on the cardboard cup-holder thingy it says ‘purple laptop girl’. I almost drop it out of surprise. What is going on here? Bridget Confused.

 

My phone beeps again and I walk back into the booth and check “, it’s Gemma “ **DON’T BE LATE BRIDGET!!!1!111!** ”. Crap I’m going to be late for my next class.

 

-

 

The next week is the same. Except this time I get to take the elevator. I take it to the 4th floor again. A short girl with a bob and a backpack walks in and smiles at me. I can feel the tension in the small godforsaken box as we both try to avoid looking at each other through the completely reflective interior of the elevator. I don’t understand why it has to be mirrors. Then again I guess if you even find yourself stuck in there with the spawn of satan you would want to be able to see it coming. She gets off at the third floor and I let out a breath as soon as the door closes.

 

Booth is free again. My routine continues. I grab the newest edition of Axiom. There’s a badly photoshopped picture of a girl trying to climb into the television as the front cover. I make a mental note to try and see if I can sign up as contributor. Ha. My sleep-deprived mind is talking crazy.

 

Once again I skip the articles - I save those for when lectures get particularly boring - and skim through Lettuce and Poetica. You can always tell it’s the third years because it’s like they try but they don’t even /really/ try.

 

_This third assignment_

_Sounds like death sentence to me_

_I like nachos ha_

**\- Spinner**

 

Good god. Is this what my mind is going to look like in two years? But then there are those ones that are horrible but also kinda sweet.

 

_Prove your love to me_

_In ways only I can see_

_With our inside jokes_

**\- BlueYes**

 

_Eggs on toast and tea_

_Tall lanky plus short curvy_

_We make sense don’t wee_

**\- CurlyFries**

 

Nice. Shame about the typo though.

 

I’m about to flip the page to the crosswords when I glance at the Lettuce on the opposite page and something catches my eye.

 

 _“Sleepy Purple Laptop Girl”_ \- from The Caped Crusader

 

What the actual- There is commentary just before the letter but I’m too intrigued so I skip that and keep reading. 

 

“ _Dear Sleepy Purple Laptop Girl,_

_I can’t begin to tell you how much you make my monday mornings so much better every time you come in to the library and claim that spot (I won’t tell, don’t worry) as your own. I see the way you spread your crap around so no one even bothers to ask you to share. I’ve always been here and I was never going to say anything. But last week you looked particularly grumpy and sleepy. Sorry if this sounds f***ing creepy I just had to say something. Hope you liked the drink._

_\- The Caped Crusader_

_P.S. The way you fill in those crosswords with pen is so hot.”_

 

My jaw drops. I sit back and let my shoulders fall. What just happened? My eyes flit back to the top, to the italicised text after the Lettuce title.

 

_“We don’t know if we should feel creeped out or get heart eyes. We’re confused enough that we’ve decided to give The Caped Crusader and his mystery lady two free vouchers to Benny’s Buns. Sure, we’re all for romance here at Axiom but this is a Student Paper, people. This is the closest we can get to fine dining.”_

 

I shake my head. The Axiom writers are some of the sassiest people I’ve ever - read? met? know of? Anyway I guess you have to be if you have to deal with the plethora of things they receive from week to week. My eyes fall back to the title and I’m floored again.

 

I know how the Axiom staff feels. Creeped out but holy wow. I look down and realise I’ve been gripping my pen. I uncurl my fingers as the realisation that whoever this Caped Crusader is, he’s been watching me long enough (or closely enough) that he’d know I fill in crosswords with my pen. Could also be a she. Either way.

 

I stick my head out of the booth and survey the surrounding area. All the students are hunched over their laptops or books, some are even passed out like me. There’s two guys walking along the aisle looking for books but other than that no creepy stalker types.

 

I find myself making a dog ear on the magazine, on the page of the Lettuce for me and I close it. I’m not going to do the crossword today, not because I don’t want the Cape Crusader to get off on my hobby, but because I thought the least I could do is say thanks.

 

I grab my laptop and write an email to Axiom.

 

-

 

_“Dear Cape Crusader (and Axiom staff if you’re tuning in {A: We are, Sleepy Purple Laptop Girl})_

_I must say I agree with the Axiom writers. Creeped out but turned on. Oops. What can I say, I’m a sucker for people who notice the little things. So. Thanks I guess. I don’t know how my 9am zombie face got me here but I have to say, Benny’s Buns has a special place in my heart. (E: Someone claim the vouchers please or we’ll give them to one of the haiku writers oh god please claim the vouchers you have til the end of the week.)_

_P.S._

_I’d like to apologise about the MondayMorning-itis but there’s nothing I can really do about that. I’m only human._

_P.P.S._

_The coffee was lovely. Thanks.”_

 

There it is. My first published writing and it’s a stupid flirty letter to someone I don’t even know. And did I just really ask them out to Benny’s Buns? Is this something I let happen?

 

I let my forehead touch the desk and I close my eyes. My phone rings. “Bridget, I’m on my way to class now. Get your fine ass down here, I’ll save you a seat.” I can’t event reply and Gemma hangs up. I can’t complain, I wouldn’t get anything done without her. There’s another cup of coffee for me. I grab my stuff and my cup and head to class. I can barely focus. I want it to be monday already so I can see if The Cape Crusader has responded to my message or maybe this is a one-time thing. Something is very wrong with me if Monday is a thing I’m suddenly looking forward to.

 

I shake my head and distract myself by reading the haikus.

 

_Drown me in this kiss_

_As I might miss you in the_

_Morning when you leave_

**\- BluEyes**

 

_Red bull you give me_

_Wings like in the ads, you know_

_You get an award_

**\- Angel**

 

_Sorry had to go_

_Without warning but I’m here_

_To stay; I promise_

**\- CurlyFries**

 

-

 

_“Sleepy Laptop Girl,_

 

_Maybe smile a little bit? Or not, don’t let me tell you what to do. I just wonder what you look like when you’re not so sleepy - not that sleepy laptop girl is bad. It’s still pretty hot. I can’t tell you how many times I wish Mondays didn’t start so early for us but also that I’d see you anyway - just in a different context. I wonder what you look like in my hoodie with sleepy eyes and bedhead opposite me when I wake up in the morning._

_Sorry, my friend says that’s actually super inappropriate and creepy. It’s just that Benny’s Buns is like. Heaven to me. And if you love it as much as I do I will have to file a complaint. No one should be that perfect. God that’s cheesy._

_I’ve collected the vouchers. What say you, fair lady?_

_\- The Cape Crusader_

 

Plus a note from the staff: " _Let it be known, Sleepy Laptop Girl, if you two end up FINALLY meeting - you will not regret. This boy comes in the office and our receptionist be like damn son why you so fly and he’s like I’m here to get the Benny’s Buns vouchers and we be like no and he’s like yes and we be like you fine he be like harassment we like we can’t stop we won’t stop and he’s like is that miley cyrus and we’re like what and he’s like guys can you be serious and we’re like okay but only because you’re super adorable here you go so yeah please name your babies after us thank you please_ ”

 

I can’t contain my laughter. This is so ridiculous but I would be lying if I said this hasn’t changed the way I feel about mondays. Sure, it’s still a mission to get out of bed and to keep my eyes open during my lecture and I still want to strangle my lecturer but as soon as the hour hits, I almost have to stop myself from running up the stairs to the fourth floor. It’s getting embarrassing. Gemma has noticed something but I haven’t said anything about my Axiom Love Affair. Although she has brought it up once in passing, about these crazy people courting each other on the school paper and how there’s nothing substantial in it anymore. Oops. Sorry, G.

 

I collect my Axiom copy from the door of the library. By the time I get to the booth I’ve already read all the haikus. I don’t check the Lettuce yet because I want to be sitting down for that. And maybe I also want to let The Cape Crusader see my reaction when I read his letter. Maybe.

 

And anyway it seems like love is brewing in the haiku page. Kind of. I swear CurlyFries and BluEyes post every week.

 

_Can’t take one more day_

_Of code and stuffy comp labs_

_But this is my heart_

**\- Unsigned**

 

_Wish this was easy_

_Like writing stupid haikus_

_You’re a force of nature_

**\- CurlyFries aka Rule Breaker**

 

_You’ve left your mark so_

_Why are you running away_

_Stupid promises_

**\- BlueEyes**

 

I don’t fall asleep this week. I’m buzzing on the Cape Crusader’s invite. He wants to go to Benny’s Buns with me. Nothing could be more romantic. Best burgers in town. Surely, because he’s replied and made all those comments, that he could at least be vaguely interested in me, right? Or not. It would be interesting to meet him, though. And I think the vouchers are as much mine as my anonymous stalker’s.

 

I leave my stuff to go to the toilets. I’m washing my hands when I realise - he could be taking this chance to put another coffee on my desk! Maybe I can still catch him. I run out without drying my hands, earning me a frown and a huff from the old librarian standing next to me in front of the sink. I rush out the door and run towards the booth except I slam straight into someone.

 

He’s got his hands on my shoulders to steady me before I fall flat on my face. The library spins a bit but when my eyes focus a smile spreads across my face.

 

“Liam!” I cry out.

 

His concerned look disappears into a full smile - teeth and crinkly eyes, the works! - “Hey, Bridge! Sorry about that.”

 

“No, I’m sorry, I was just - “ I gesture towards my stuff.

 

He glances and a look passes across his face and before it can really register and before I can say anything he says, “True, you don’t want to get your stuff stolen.” he laughs. “Have to go anyway. Breakfast with Zayn.”

 

I smile and shake my head. “Man, you two are just- ugh. So cute.”

 

He gives me a quick hug as he laughs and then he’s off.

 

I sit back down and I was so distracted with seeing an old friend that I didn’t even realise that there’s a fresh cup of coffee on my table. Fresh because it’s still super hot.

 

Something is different this week though. There’s a bit of paper under it with my name on it.

 

“ _Bridget,_

_So I may or may not know your name now. Here’s the voucher. I was going to ask you to meet me there on Friday at 7 and surprise you, I guess? And I was going to hold on to the vouchers til then. But I saw and heard you laugh for the first time today and I thought to myself, right, that’s all I need. I can die a happy man. And this freaking gorgeous lady deserves some good burgers without a creepy guy there to creepy her out. So. Yeah. Enjoy Benny’s._

_\- TCC_

_P.S._

_I’ll keep the invite open. That way you can come if you want and it’s not because I’m holding your food hostage or anything and I’ll just be there. You seem like a girl who can hold her own._

 

-

 

Gemma slaps my shoulder. “I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU KEPT THIS FROM ME!”

 

“Ow!!!” I say as I try to rub away the ache. Girl didn’t even hold back. “I’m sorry, you were so annoyed by it that I didn’t want to say anything.”

 

“Bridget, Bridget.” She holds my face between her hands and forces me to look her in the eye. “I. ship. you. Brader. yeah? Good portmanteau?”

 

I roll my eyes and she releases my face. I let myself fall flat on my back on to her bed. We’re in her bedroom, the walls are decorated with band posters and peace signs. Gemma is studying law. Gemma is a soft punk flower child.

 

“Oh god I have a crush on… on a faceless stalker.” I groan after I cover my face with her pillow. “It’s like beauty and the beast! I could have stockholm syndrome!”

 

She rips the pillow out of my hands and places one hand on her hip. She raises her other hand, counting down her points as she says, “Number one, that is not stockholm syndrome, no one is holding you hostage. He said so himself in his letter.”

 

“How do you-“

 

“NumBER TWO!” she yells above my protest, “Did you just seriously compare your situation to beauty and the best?”

 

I open my mouth but she glares at me and holds up a third finger, “Are you implying that you, my friend, are beauty? Because you forget that I am still in this world.”

 

We look at each other and a moment passes before we’re both in hysterics. We’re side by side on the bed, a little out of breath before another word is said.

 

“Okay so I’m sorry that that sounded ridiculous but you know what I mean right? This is crazy!”

 

She turns to lie on her side, her head on her hand. “It’s crazy, the whole world is crazy. Who cares. This could be fun. And he clearly cares enough to buy you coffee every fucking week.”

 

“Belle lived in a castle.” I mutter.

 

She rolls her eyes. “All I’m saying is stuff everything else. Why not give it a go? And if he likes you as much as his words make it seem then shit. That’s awesome. If not you can part as friends.”

 

I’m quiet as I mull it over. What do I really have to lose? He can’t possibly be a psychopath, right? Axiom staff thought he was hot. He sounds like he’s funny on paper. He noticed my crossword thing and no one’s ever picked up on that, least of all thought it was attractive. My stomach churns. I cover my face and I say, “Okay, I think I’ll do it.”

 

Gemma sits up and stand on the bed then proceeds to jump up and down, squealing. Her door opens and her brother, Harry’s head pops in through the door.

 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise you were here, Bridget.” he says, his voice low. His eyes, usually sparkling seems a bit lacklustre today. I know Gemma picks up on it straight away because she jumps off the bed and walks towards him. She stands right in front of him and the moment she stops he slowly lowers his head so their foreheads rest against each other. They begin to talk in whispers and I turn over, not wanting to intrude.

 

“Bridge, I’m just gonna go have a chat with Harry.” she says but she’s already out the door.

 

-

 

Friday could not have arrived sooner. The only thing I had on was a lab from 10-1 so I had the rest of the afternoon to have a good freakout and decide on an outfit.

 

“Who cares!” Gemma says with a flick of her long blonde hair. We’re in my bedroom this time and I’ve changed and moan about my outfit 4 times now.

 

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Gemma since when have you been so indifferent?” She is the opposite of indifferent. She is passionate and very active and she is vocal and she is such a strong person it’s kind of scary.

 

“I’m not indifferent, B. I’m just all for YOU doing what feels good and what makes you happy. You totally deserve it, you’re so awesome.”

 

I wipe an invisible tear from my eye and I sniff. “I’m meeting an anonymous stalker, not walking down the aisle.”

 

She throws my pillow at me. “Shut up. What I mean is. He’s already seen you on a Monday morning. Whatever else you put on besides jeans and a hoodie will be an improvement, trust me.” She says this without cracking but I just shake my head at her and grin.

 

“I swear if you didn’t love me so much I’d think you hated me.” I said as I change into one last outfit. It’s a dark blue high-waisted skater skirt lose, white cropped top with the sleeves ripped off. It says BAM on it in serif font, not unlike the Vogue font.

 

“You know it’s both of those things, darling.” She says with a smile. She takes the flower crown off her head and walks up to me and places it on my head.

 

My long brown hair is falling in waves on either side of my face, past my shoulders. The flower crown is a cool touch. I put on my Doc Marten boots.

 

I look at myself in the mirror again. “Right. This is the best casual pretty and comfy combo I can do.”

 

Gemma shakes her head. “Bridget you look great. Now give that guy and awkward boner.”

 

She slaps my ass as we leave my room.

 

-

 

“Remember, text me if he’s a freak and I will put Harry on as Dr. Acula letting you know your dog has been in an accident okay. We’ll get you out of there. But. If, you know. You actually enjoy yourself, text me and we’ll put Harry on as Dr.-“

 

“Gemma! Chill!” I cut her off. We’re looking for parking, Gemma is driving, but she is a mess. I feel pretty calm, which is funny. I guess my system managed to get the nerves out of the way. No I’m just stoked to get me some double cheeseburger max from Benny’s. “I’ll let you know how it goes, don’t worry.”

 

She puts the car in Park and turns to me. “It’s going to be fun, right?” She says.

 

“Yes. And thank you so much. Now, I’m not going before a firing squad. It’s just cheeseburger. Whatever.”

 

“Right. Cheeseburger. Cool.”

 

I smile and give her a peck on the cheek.

 

-

 

Benny’s is quiet for a Friday. But only because 7pm is too early for the party kids. Usually 2am is when they start to trickily in post-party needing some sustenance in their inebriated systems. I have no idea what to do or who even to look for so I go straight to the counter to order.

 

I present my voucher and find a booth (ha life is funny) that is in clear view of most of the restaurant. I love Benny’s not just for their juicy patties but also for the feel of the place. It feels like an old-school diner, bright with neon lights and antique furnishings but it’s comforting. Someone comes in to give me my chocolate milkshake, which is to die for, and I sip on it while I patiently wait for my order.

 

It’s 5 past 7 and I start to wonder if The Caped Crusader is even going to show. It would suck but at least my burger is good. I try to distract myself by pulling out a copy of Axiom that was in my bag and I start doing the crosswords.

 

About a minute later a shadow falls over my table. I look up, a bit annoyed, since I was just reading the clue for 19 across when my eyes are met by a blue-eyed blonde, wearing a green long-sleeved top and a red snapback on his head. He’s smiling and I think I’ve stopped breathing. Holy hell what have I done to deserve this.

 

“Hi, Bridget.” I blink. There’s confidence in the way he stands and the way he says my name but his smile is sheepish. I still can’t say anything and I watch as he looks around, takes his snapback off, runs his fingers through his thick, messy hair, and puts it on.

 

My heart is hammering in my chest. “Heeeey…” That probably came out more like a question than a greeting.

 

“I’m Niall.” he offers his hand and I stare at it. “Sorry!” he says as he quickly pulls back and shoves his hand in his pocket. He looks around and chuckles. “I’m sorry if this is so weird for you.”

 

I shake my head, I can’t help but smile. Axiom was right. Boy is bloody adorable. I gesture to the seat across me and as he moves to sit I say, “A little bit. But I’m just,” I am an idiot who cannot hide her smile but I am trying very, very hard, “So unfair because you know what I look like and I’m sitting here and you walk up and you’re like,” I gesture at him again, “GAH!”

 

He laughs. A throaty laugh that sends shivers down my spine. His head is tilted back, his chest rising and falling like I’ve just said the most hilarious thing. “Sorry! I was. I thought of leaving my number on the paper?” He takes off his snapback and places it on the table then runs his hand through his hair again. He doesn’t put the snapback on again and Bridget’s heart does a little dance. “But I’m like, this is creepy enough. Also might’ve come off as a bit cocky.”

 

I tilt my head. “You’re Irish?”

 

He presses his lips together, so much so that it forms almost like an exaggerated frown and his face is stern. “Yes. And proud of it.” He nods at me.

 

I mimic his expression and nod back. “Are you going to order, or?”

 

“I’ve already ordered I just have me friends…” He stands up and searches for them in the diner.

 

“Hey, unfair! I didn’t know we could bring friends!” I protest.

 

He’s gesturing to someone from the other side but he looks over his shoulder and grins at me. Wow, seriously. Does this guy’s smile not have an off button? I’m not complaining, it’s wonderful, I’m just asking. He sits back down and looks at me like I just answered the million-dollar question. There’s respect in his eyes, I think. “That’s coz I’m a wuss. And I was right to say that you could hold your own.”

 

I’m about to protest when two familiar figures walk up just by Niall’s shoulder.

 

“Liam?? Zayn??” I ask incredulously.

 

“Sorry,” Zayn says.

 

The expression on Niall’s face changes. He looks between Zayn and me. “You know each other?”

 

“LIAM?!?!?!?!” There’s a hint of hysteria on my voice. I flashback to that day in the library when I bumped into him and the hot coffee on my desk.

 

Liam raises his hands and looks at Zayn. “I only figured it out this Monday when I saw you, remember? I saw your laptop. I’m sorry.”

 

“Everyone stop fucking apologising and explain me a thing!” I’m mad. Mad Insane I mean.

 

Niall puts his face in his hands and I think I hear him mutter, “God so hot.”

 

“Okay, Niall. You need to stop saying things like that because I’m going to make out with you so hard.” I don’t know what has gotten in to me. But this Irishman and the way he reacts and the way he looks at me like I’m some magical thing. I can’t handle it. I need him to know I’m flawed and somehow I think that threatening a make out session is the way to go.

 

Niall slowly lifts his face from his hands and he’s looking at me intently. I squirm under his gaze but I see the sparkle in his eye, and a secret smile that’s tugging at his lips. Without breaking our gaze he says, “Guys dyou mind?”

 

From the corner of my eye I see Zayn place a tray of food and slide it towards the middle of the table. They say their goodbyes and walk away.

 

Niall blinks and smiles. He places his hand, palm facing upward, between us in the middle of the table. I look at it and without thinking I reach out and place my fingertips on top of his. A breath escapes me. His fingers are callused but they are warm.

 

“I meant everything I said by the way.” he says quietly.

 

I look up at him but he’s still staring at where our fingers are connected.

 

“In those letters. I meant them. I just, never got the courage to say anything.”

 

I lift my hand a bit and move my arm forward so that my fingers were just above his wrist. I smile, my fingers ghosting the inside of his wrist. “Thanks.”

 

He smirks up at me. His flicks up slightly and his fingertips are touching my wrist so freaking gentle and shiver runs up my arm. “Question.” he says. He pulls his hand back and clasps them in front of him.

 

I want to protest at the loss of contact but I find myself mimicking him.

 

“Shoot.” I say.

 

“Do you think I’m creepy?”

 

“Just here, like this looking like that, no.”

 

He looks at himself and frowns at me. “Looking like this?”

 

“Yeah you’re hot what are you talking about.” I want to eat my freaking foot. Kill me now.

 

He laughs, that magical laugh again.

 

“And first impression?”

 

“I think I’m meant to ask a question now.” I offer.

 

He leans unclasps his hands, “Okay, go for it.”

 

“First impression.” I say.

 

He smiles, like he’s prepared for this. “I thought your were gorgeous. You were practically ecstatic when I saw you sit in that booth. I was in the study cubicles and I could see you clearly and I just couldn’t help but stare. You started doing your thing and all I wanted to do was ask you what you were doing, why you were doing it. And yeah, i know you’re going to say you looked like shit but as insane as this sounds and please don’t run away because i’m not insane - there was just something about you. it wasn’t until later that i figured, yup i definitely liked you even though I only ever saw you on mondays in that booth. But that’s an answer for an unasked question. My turn. First impression.”

 

“On paper or in person?” I ask, deadpan.

 

“Both.” He nods and winks. He winked at me but there was nothing cocky about it. How could I deny that?

 

“On paper. You freaked me out. for obvious reasons. But I was intrigued because… because you pointed out my crossword thing and it was like having you in on a secret which was kind of nice.” I shrug.

 

“And in person?”

 

“It should be my turn but I’ll let you have it.” I say, “I thought your snapback was cool, and I kind of want to run my hands in your hair. I already knew you were going to be funny but I didn’t know you would look so good.”

 

His jaw drops. “Wow, you are the worst. This is so unfair.” He pulls at his hair, the blonde locks sticking up in every direction on his head.

 

He looks at me dead in the eyes and places both of his hands on the table, palm facing up again.

 

I place my fingers on his wrists and he copies the action. There’s something extremely intimate about it that I almost want to cry. How can this boy be real?

 

“Do you think…” he begins. “Do you think we could do this again, without the creepy and the weird? Coz I want to do this again, properly, like proper people.”

 

I frown. “Are we not proper people?”

 

He chuckles. “you know what I mean.”

 

I nod. “I do.” I purse my lips and think of this boy, sitting across me, with laughter in his eyes and an inebriating mix of rough and gentleness in his touch and, yes. Yes I would like to do this again. Properly. Like proper people. “I’d love that.”

 

-

 

**I’m in a glass box**

**We’re not allowed food in here**

**Editing Suite 5**

_\- FeedTheNerds_

 

_Harry Styles you prick_

_I love you okay I do_

_Stop running away_

**\- BluEyes**

 

_Wont run anymore_

_Home is nowhere if not with_

_you; i’m coming home_

**\- CurlyFries**

 

_One more month to go_

_This is the home stretch, Mofos_

_Life has just begun_

**\- Gemma**

 

_Dear Axiom Staff,_

_Thanks for everything. For publishing the creepy albeit sweet letter from The Caped Crusader. I see now what you meant about him being fly and fine. I have seen the light. Benny’s Buns were glorious, obviously. Yes, it was a date. You aren’t such a bad matchmaker, Axiom. No children in the horizon (thank god) but we’ll think of you when we do. That is so wrong on so many different levels. Don’t stop being sassy._

_Thanks!_

_\- Sleepy Purple Laptop Girl_

_Dear Sleepy Purple Laptop Girl,_

_I know we agreed that you’d send in a letter to Axiom but I thought I’d write in as well. For old times’ sake. It’s only been a week but I’m so comfortable around you - farts and all - thank you that you appreciate that for what it is. Or maybe you just can’t resist the Irish Charm. I’m excited for the mondays, when I get to share your spot with you now, when I can watch you answer the crosswords with your pen, and I will be there waiting with your cup of coffee and you can sleep on my shoulder whenever you want. Thanks for giving me the time of day. I feel like the underdog who got the girl. And you’re quite the girl._

_P.S._

_You’re so hot._

_\- The Caped Crusader_


End file.
